Rachel and Phoebe looked up from their cups as Chandler trudged into the coffeeshop, slinging his briefcase on the chair.

"Y'know," he declared, ripping off his tie and plopping onto the orange couch, "The more they call me in on Saturdays, the more I start to understand postal workers?"

"Aw, honey," Rachel said. "I thought you and Joey had a Knicks game today?"

"Yeah, I gave my ticket to your *fiance*."

"Oh, will you shut up," Rachel muttered... but it was Phoebe's face that grimaced.

"Aww, c'mon," Chandler grinned. "I think you two make a very cute fake couple. And hey, he's a *doctor*...!"

Rachel sipped her latte. "I'm sure my fake parents will be fake thrilled."

"Oh, check it out," Chandler pointed to the window. "Ross finally synthesized Flubber."

Rachel and Phoebe followed Chandler's finger. Ross was literally bouncing down the street, occasionally launching himself at light poles and twirling around them.

"I guess the long-distance phonathon went well," Rachel laughed.

"I need a muffin," Phoebe spat, pushing herself off the sofa.

"Hey, Pheebs, get me one too..." Chandler called.

Phoebe didn't turn around, stalking towards the counter. Chandler turned to Rachel. "What is *with* her?"

Rachel leaned in to whisper. "I dunno. I thought maybe it was postpartum depression, right? But it's lasted so long, y'know... and she seems okay when Ross isn't around. Do you think they had a fight?"

Chandler scratched his nose, pondering. "I... wow. I don't *think* so. I mean, he was so awesome that last bit of her pregnancy, right? Taking care of her and stuff. And then he ended up coaching her through the whole birth when Frank and Alice got stuck in Delaware, and they'd been spending so much time together... why would they fight?"

Rachel's eyes grew wide. "Oh my god, Chandler!"

"What?"

"Did you not hear what you just said? Phoebe likes Ross!"

"But Ross loves *Emily*."

"Oh, god... poor Pheebs," Rachel cried, putting her hand to her lips. "I mean, normally when crap happens to you guys, I say I know how you're feeling, but... oh my *god*, do I know how she's feeling!"

"Yeah, I think I can work up a little empathy for that situation myself," Chandler said darkly.

"They were out of muffins," Phoebe said, reappearing with tears in her eyes and a plate in her hand. "Totally out of muffins. All they had were... *scones*."

"C'mere, Pheebs," Chandler said, opening his arms wide. Phoebe crawled in between Rachel and Chandler, setting her plate aside and letting Chandler wrap her in his arms, stroking her hair. "I'm really sorry that... they were out of muffins."

"I *hate* scones," Phoebe sobbed into Chandler's neck.

Rachel rubbed her arm consolingly. "I know, sweetie. I know. I used to hate scones, too."

"Well hey, hey you guys," Ross said, standing behind the couch and staring down in confusion. "What's goin' on?"

"It's a... pastry thing," Chandler said, brushing Phoebe's hair back from her face. "Phoebe just... figured out that the croissants are made with butter. She's very upset."

"Aww, Pheebs!" Ross said. "Tell you what... I'll go down to Greenlife this afternoon and get you some vegan ones, okay? We'll have a big, French, vegan croissant-eating par-tay!"

"Terrific," Phoebe sniffed, wiping her eyes on her sleeves.

"Anyway, we've *gotta* have *some* kind of par-tay, 'cause guess what? Emily's coming to New York! She totally believes me that I'm over Rachel, and she's gonna come down for a few weeks!"

He thrust his fists into the air. Everyone stared, poker-faced.

"Um... okay... woo-hoo! That's a 'woo-hoo' thing! Come on, you guys! Woo-hoo!"

"I dunno, Ross," Rachel drawled. "I feel kinda weird, y'know, 'woo-hooing' with you without my *fiance's* permission."

"Oh, yeah. About that." Ross fidgeted. "You, um... you think maybe you and Richard could go on some double-dates with me and Emily?"

"What? Ross!" Rachel cried, shooting worried glances at Phoebe. "It's bad enough that we had to let you lie about us -- now we have to *participate*?"

Ross dropped heavily into the green chair. "Look... it's too suspicious if you 'break up' right before she gets here! Rachel, please -- I'm *begging* you here!"

Rachel's eyes flashed back and forth between Phoebe and Ross, both shooting her pleading glances. "I... um... I..." She wrung her hands together. "I will... let Richard decide!"

"Yeah, okay," Ross said glumly, then brightened. "He and Joey should be back from the game by now, right? Were they going to your apartment, Chandler?"

"Yeah, I... I think so..."

"Okay, I'll try to catch them there." He sprang up from his chair, crossing behind them and laying his hand atop Phoebe's head. "Feel better, Pheebs. And look -- I'll talk to Gunther, see if maybe he'll switch to a kind made with margarine... okay?"

"Thanks," Phoebe muttered.

And bouncy-bouncy-bouncy, Ross was gone.

Rachel stretched her arm out languidly, applying delicate fingertip pressure to the edge of Phoebe's plate. Plate and scone clattered to the ground.

"Oh, *oops*!" Rachel cried. "Pheebs, I'm *so* sorry, I accidentally knocked your snack over...!"

"Better get that up," Chandler replied. "Someone might accidentally smash it with their shoe."

Pheebs head shot between them, eyes widening as she recognized that they knew... then filling with a dark glee as she began to pummel the scone mercilessly with both heels.